Uncaged
by The Layman
Summary: Written for the prompt "freedom", and as some catharsis. The first chapter is the rough draft, the second is the final version,
1. Initial draft

_Written for the prompt "Freedom". _

_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/

I don't know how long it's been since I've seen the sky...it's so hard to tell when they stick you in an underground prison cell with no windows or skylight. Seriously, you'd think one of these days there'd he a hell prison with a freaking _skylight_ in it just for variety or something!

...oh who am I kidding? It's not like there's anyone around to really appreciate my snark anymore; Angel was taken away somewhere like I was, I don't know what happened to Gazzy and Iggy, though by now it can't have been anything good. I remember Nudge flying away from those weird super soldiers that attacked us, but without the Flock she wouldn't try anything drastic like rescuing us. I can only hope she's made a good life for herself somewhere...

Fang died during the fight, got shot in the back. After that, I just gave up; there was nothing left for me to fight for. Fang had become the only thing in the world I really cared about over all else. He was my solid rock, my Right Wing..._my heart_. ...It still hurts thinking about him after all this time.

Now my existence consisted of sitting in this cell, eating the meager scraps of food I was brought, and doing whatever pointless tests the damn Whitecoats thought up fro me. Why bother though? Why bother keeping me in shape if all if all I'm just gonna sit in my little cell and eat? It serves no purpose! Why not just let me rot already!

Sigh, every day just fades into the next, never-ending, just reminding me that I'm trapped here. I think that's probably the worst part of all this, not being able to see the sky anymore, not being able to wheel and dip and loop and just _fly_. It's like...part of me has been smothered some much that it's practically not there anymore. On paper 2% might not seem like much, but when that 2% is hardwired right into your very being, and it's smothered and choked and suppressed so much it's practically dead...it's like a painting that someone scraped portions off, but left the sketches underneath to remind people what used to be. It doesn't feel good, let me tell you that.

Oh look its "feeding time". Joy.

_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/

The guard slid his keycard through the reader, unlocking the cell door after a short series of beeps. It slid into the wall, light now filling the small room and illuminating its sole occupant. Clad only in a flimsy shirt and pants, the young woman slouched against the far wall, hardly even reacting to the sudden change in brightness.

"Here you go Number 6," the scientist said, placing a tray of meager food in front of her, "Eat up, there's another test coming up. You up for it?"

There was no reaction from "Number 6"; she just stared blankly in front of her, her eyes dull and listless, not even registering man's white lab coat almost obscuring her vision of all else beyond it. While it was ideal for the maintenance of the specimen, the scientist wished that she would at least acknowledge him in some way; it was harder to gather data when the only answer the specimen gave was grunts. Ah well, at least some of the other recombinants were more accommodating.

"Hurry up," the guard said impatiently, "you're not gonna get anything out of that one anyway."

"Well, be blunt about it why don't you; there's always the chance something will change one of these days." The guard was unimpressed.

"Unlikely," he said, "she's one of the oldest specimens in this place; she was like that when we brought her in, and for every day since then. I'll bet you money she'll be like this a week from now too."

"Done!" the scientist agreed cheerfully. As he left the cell he turned back, "Don't forget about the tests!"

Again, nothing.

"I'll never understand scientists," the guard said, reaching for his keycard.

"And that's why you're guarding the cells instead of doing the actual _important_ work," the Whitecoat sneered. "Besides, you've only been here for a few weeks, how do you even know about what these specimens were like when they were first gathered?"

"They briefed about all of them when I started. Still, somethings about this place don't make any sense."

"Such as?"

"Such as why there aren't any locks on any of the door outside of the cells here?"

_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/

I leaped at the guard, a sudden strength I forget I had surging through my body. It was like I was the old me again, fighting off whatever baddie was trying to take over the world that Tuesday. It was exhilarating, it was wonderful, it was...hope. That's it word, hope. The one thing I'd lost that I'd never been able to get back since...that day. I tackled the guards into the wall outside my cell, banging his head into it until I was sure he was knocked out.

Once he was taken care of, I turned my attention to the scientist cowering to the side. There were so many emotions running through my mind as locked my eyes on his terrified form; my early memories of the School, Jeb taking me and the rest of the Flock away, his betrayal, all the other times I'd been captured and tested on at the hands of these soulless _humans_ who cared only for their precious test results. Everything came rushing out at once as I calmly walked up to him, grabbed his head, and gave it a sharp twist. What did it even matter anymore that I'd just killed, him? There was no one around anymore to be perfect for, no one who looked up to me, no one I was willing to be a better person for.

All that mattered now was getting free of this hell I'd been in for so long.

I sprinted along the corridors, trying to find my way out. The sterilized smell of hospitals was nauseating after being in the same room for years, and in musty dog crates when I was being moved to whatever test they had in store for me, but the prospect freedom of overrode every other reflex I had as I rushed ahead. I passed by other startled scientists and soldiers, but did pay them any mind, they were inconsequential to my goals unless they directly got in my way.

After what seemed like an eternity I was finally at the exit, my desire for freedom multiplied now that I was so close. The exit was a heavy metal door with a simple deadbolt sliding across it. I threw it to the side and push the door with all my might. After another short eternity it was open and I sprinted out as fast as I could.

I was outside now.

I stopped, just taking in the thing that used to be so familiar to me but was now foreign. Slowly things began to register; trees, grass, flowers, rocks, birds, a deer, the sky...

The sky, I felt an instant connection with it. I felt it calling me, beckoning me into its welcoming embrace.

Slowly, I unfurled my wings. They were a bit stiff from not being used probably for so long, but that didn't matter. All my old muscle memory was coming back to me, driving me upward to the great blue expanse. Thank God I still stretched them out from time to time in that hell. Satisfied I was able, and more that ready, I leaped into air, beating my wings eagerly.

I was finally _free_.

Suddenly, I felt pain exploded in my chest. I quickly looked down and saw a red stain on my meager excuse for a shirt. I'd been shot, right through the heart it seems. Strangely, it didn't stay painful for long, and I could feel myself falling. Heh, how ironic that I finally get a taste of Freedom after years and it's cut short by a lousy bullet. As I fell, I could see the infinite sky above me, slowly becoming engulfed in a brilliant white light.

I finally put 2 and 2 together; I'm dying.

_Hey Fang_, _I'll see you in just a minute_, I thought as I closed my eyes and let the light engulf me.

fin.

_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/

_OK, that was a bit less cathartic than I thought it would be. Still, I had to get this idea out. Like it or hate it, it doesn't matter that much to about this one. _


	2. Final version

_Well, this is the first Max Ride thing I've written in years, and is also radically from anything else I've written for the fandom. So, fingers crossed!_

_Written for the prompt "Freedom". _

_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/

I don't know how long it's been since I've seen the sky...it's so hard to tell when they stick you in an underground prison cell with no windows or skylight. Seriously, you'd think one of these days there'd be a hell prison with a freaking _skylight_ in it just for variety or something!

...oh who am I kidding? It's not like there's anyone around to really appreciate my snark anymore. My Flock is gone, I'm the last one left.

Angel was taken away somewhere like I was. I never actually saw it happen, but over time I've heard the Whitecoats talk about the others. Apparently she was taken back to where the School was, and had many horrible experiments done to her before she was lobotomized.

I don't know what happened to Gazzy and Iggy, though by now it can't have been anything good. I remember them leading some of those weird super soldiers away from the battle, then a minute or two later I heard an explosion. I try not to think about what must have happened.

I remember Nudge flying away from the soldiers that attacked us, and in all the time I've been here I haven't heard anyone mention her name. She was always brave when it mattered, but without the Flock to back her up she wouldn't try anything drastic like rescuing us. I can only hope she's made a good life for herself somewhere, if she's even still alive at all...

I never heard anything about Total, but one time I saw the Whitecoats moving a black Scotty that looked exactly like him, minus the wings. I though it looked at me, its eyes sad and apologetic, but I can never be sure, since that's the last time I saw him.

...Fang died during the fight, shot in the back. After that, it was like someone had ripped my heart out; there didn't seem to be anything left for me to fight for. Fang had become the only thing in the world I really cared about over all else. He was my solid rock, my Right Wing..._my heart_. ...It still hurts thinking about him after all this time.

Now my existence consisted of sitting in this cell, eating the meager scraps of food I was brought, and doing whatever pointless tests the damn Whitecoats thought up fro me. Why bother though? Why bother keeping me in shape if all if all I'm just gonna sit in my little cell and eat? It serves no purpose! Why not just let me rot already! They already put me through hell, what point is there in prolonging it? Why not just kill me already and end this?

Sigh, every day just fades into the next, never-ending, just reminding me that I'm trapped here. At first I tried keep track of time by scratching marks on the wall (I still can't believe I did something that cliche...), trying to bust out of my prison cell whenever the guards weren't around, stretching out my wings like some prisoners do push ups. Eventually I gave up when everything I did turned out to be completely fruitless, and my exercise regime became more of an unconscious habit than anything else. I gave up hope of ever escaping from this place, of ever seeing Nudge again if she was still alive, of spreading my wings and soaring through the sky again.

I think that's probably the worst part of all this, not being able to see the sky anymore, not being able to wheel and dip and loop and just _fly_. It's like...part of me has been smothered so much that it's practically not there anymore. On paper 2% might not seem like much, but when that 2% is hardwired right into your very being, and it's smothered and choked and suppressed so much it's practically dead...it's like a painting that someone scraped portions off, but left the sketches underneath to remind people of what used to be. It doesn't feel good, let me tell you that.

Oh look, its "feeding time"; time for some tasteless slop that doesn't have nearly enough calories to keep my going. Joy.

_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/

The guard slid his keycard through the reader, unlocking the cell door after a short series of beeps. It slid into the wall, light now filling the small room and illuminating its sole occupant. Clad only in a flimsy shirt and pants, the young woman slouched against the far wall, hardly even reacting to the sudden change in brightness; she just stared at the ground in front of her, unmoving.

"Here you go Number 6," the scientist said, bringing in a tray of food and placing it in front of her, "Eat up, there's another test coming up. You up for it?"

There was no reaction from "Number 6"; she just stared blankly in front of her, her eyes dull and listless, not even registering man's white lab coat almost obscuring her vision of all else beyond it. While it was ideal for the maintenance of the specimen, the scientist wished that she would at least acknowledge him in some way; it was harder to gather data when the only answers the specimen gave were unintelligible grunts. Ah well, at least some of the other recombinants were more accommodating.

"Hurry up," the guard said impatiently, leaning against the door frame, "you're not gonna get anything out of that one anyway."

"You don't know that for sure; there's always the chance something will change one of these days." The guard was unimpressed.

"Unlikely," he said, "she's one of the oldest specimens in this place; she was like that when we brought her in, and for every day since then. In fact I'll bet you money she'll be like this a week from now too."

"Done!" the scientist agreed cheerfully. As he left the cell he turned back, "Don't forget about the tests!"

Again, nothing.

"I'll never understand scientists," the guard said, moving out of the way for the scientist to leave.

"And that's why you're guarding the cells instead of doing the actual _important_ work," the Whitecoat sneered. "I, in fact, doubt your high school GED could even comprehend all the advances we're doing here. Such as the thing we've learned from..."

As the scientist prattled on, another pair of guards and a scientist higher up then the one who fed Number 6 walked up to them, on of the guards wheeling an animal crate with him.

"D-director!" the low level scientist stuttered, jumping to attention. "I didn't know you'd be down here today, sir!"

"Neither did I," the Director said casually, "I'm really only here on a whim."

The two academics exchanged a bit more small talk before the Director dismissed the other and stepped in the cell housing Number 6.

"It's time," the man said, staring down at the young woman. She didn't respond, just sat there and stared at the floor. He glanced back at the guards that came with him, "Would one of you please help this woman into the dolly, please?" One of the guards did so (adorning her wrists with plastic cuffs out of protocol, and easily lead the pitiful creature into the box and closing it up after her.

It didn't take long to get to the lab where they were headed, and once again the poor woman was helped out of the wheeled crate, cut her bindings with a knife from his belt, and laid her down on an operating table. All the time she didn't make a sound or motion of protest.

"Thank you, I'll take it from here," the Director said, bidding the two guards to stand outside the room. Once they were gone, the man opened a container labeled "Poison" and withdrew a small bottle with the words "Pancuronium bromide" on it. He grabbed a waiting syringe from the counter next to him and filled it from the bottle of poison.

"It's a real shame," he said, tapping the syringe to rid it of air bubbles, "you and your Flock were supposed to be heroes and save the world, but..." He sighed, "At least we've been able to use what we learned from you and Angel to-"

_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/

I leaped off the table at the demon who _dared_ mention Angel's name, a sudden strength I forget I had surging through my body. It was like I was the old me again, fighting off whatever baddie was trying to take over the world that Tuesday. It was exhilarating, it was wonderful, it was...hope. That's the word, hope. The one thing I'd lost that I'd never been able to get back since...that day.

I tackled him to the floor, wrestling the syringe from his hands. There were so many emotions running through my mind as I locked my eyes on his terrified form; my early memories of the School, Jeb taking me and the rest of the Flock away, his betrayal, all the other times I'd been captured and tested on at the hands of these soulless _humans_ who cared only for their precious test results.

"Don't you _dare_ speak her name," I hissed, holding the little phial of death by an artery.

"Go ahead," came a voice I hadn't heard for years, but was only too familiar with for my liking, "though I probably deserve much worse." I yanked the despicable man to feet, and changing my grip I shoved him against the wall.

The aged face of Jeb Batchelder stared back at me, his hair almost entirely grey now.

Everything came rushing out at once as I calmly walked up to him, grabbed his head, and gave it a sharp twist, the syringe forgotten in my left hand. What did it even matter anymore that I'd just killed him? There was no one around anymore to be perfect for, no one who looked up to me, no one I was willing to be a better person for.

Now all that mattered was getting free of this hell I'd been in for so long.

Remembering the guards outside the door, as well as the fact that I now had poison literally in my grasp, I exited the small lab and jammed the syringe into the neck of the guard on the left, quickly grabbing the knife from his belt and stabbing the guard on the right in _his_ neck. After dragging the bodies back into the lab and closing the door so no one would notice them, I sprinted along the corridors, trying to find my way out. The sterilized smell of hospitals was incredibly nauseating after being in the same room for years, and in musty dog crates when I was being moved to whatever test they had in store for me, but the prospect freedom of overrode every other reflex I had as I rushed ahead. I passed by other startled scientists and soldiers, but didn't pay them any mind; they were inconsequential to my goals unless they decided they had a death wish and got in my way.

After what seemed like an eternity I was finally at the exit, my desire for freedom multiplied now that I was so close. The exit was a heavy metal door with a simple deadbolt sliding across it. As alarms began blaring I grabbed the bolt and threw it to the side, pushing the door with all my might. After another short eternity it was open and I sprinted out as fast as I could.

I was outside now.

I stopped, shielding eyes from the harsh sunlight that decided to turn itself up to 11 just for me. As my eyes adjusted I began taking in the thing that used to be so familiar to me but was now foreign. Slowly things began to register; trees, grass, flowers, rocks, birds, a deer, the sky...

The sky. Immediately I felt an connection with it, something ingrained into my very being. I felt it calling me, beckoning me into its welcoming embrace.

Slowly, I unfurled my wings. They were a bit stiff from not being used properly for so long, but that didn't matter. All my old muscle memory was coming back to me, driving me upward to the great blue expanse. Satisfied I was able, and more that ready, I leaped into air, beating my wings eagerly. I rose higher and higher, leaving behind the inhibiting ground and climbing into the great, open, infinite sky.

At long last, I was finally _free_. Just being in the sky again was exhilarating! In fact, this is probably the closest thing to happiness I've felt in a long time. Gawd...I only wish the rest of my Flock could enjoy this with-

Suddenly, I felt pain exploded in my chest, knocking me back in the air. I quickly looked down and saw a red stain on my meager excuse for a shirt, slowly getting bigger. I'd been shot, right through the heart it seems. Strangely, it didn't stay painful for long, and I could feel myself falling all strength left my body. As I fell, I could see the infinite sky above me, slowly becoming engulfed in a brilliant white light.

I finally put 2 and 2 together; I'm dying. Heh, how ironic that I finally get a taste of Freedom after years and it's cut short by one lousy bullet. If I were anyone else I'd be sad about dying and leaving the world behind, but there is one good thing that managed to come out of this.

I can finally see my Flock again.

_Hey Fang_, _I'll see you in just a minute_, I thought as I closed my eyes and let the light engulf me.

fin.

_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/

_I feel very good about this. The first draft I posted here was mostly just so I didn't loose this idea, but this one is and should be counted as the definitive story. _

_Apart from actually getting an idea from this prompt (which hardly ever happens for me), this was kind of a way for me to let go of some of my frustration with how the MR series ended. Essentially, it ended on a beautifully sad and satisfying note, only to be upstaged by an unnecessary second epilogue. I felt it was a big let down, and in some ways worse than FANG; A Maximum Ride Novel. (At least that book had the good grace not to end the series, if nothing else.) _

_So catharsis has been reached, and I can sleep easier with one less thing clouding my mind. A big thank you to Raberba Girl, who helped me spot some things in the first draft that helped this one turn out all the better. _


End file.
